


Naked and Unashamed

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-19
Updated: 2003-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:38:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1627124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley and Aziraphale are in the garden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naked and Unashamed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for penknife

 

 

They lay sprawled on Crowley's expensive cushions, a jar of wine between them. The night was clear and warm and through the fretted vines the stars shone down brilliantly from the deep blue sky. 

Aziraphale was ticking things off his fingers, or trying to: he kept missing and couldn't work out which finger of the fifteen he was seeing was the right one. They were having what Crowley insisted on calling a discussion. Aziraphale called it getting very drunk. 

'The one where you can't stop eating cakes, even though you're full,' Aziraphale said. 

'Or drinking wine until you're sick.' 

'Same thing, yes,' Aziraphale agreed, after some thought. 'Then there's the feeling y'want something that belongs to someone else,' he hiccupped, thinking of his new scrolls. 'Definitely had that one.' 

'Ah, I've got one,' Crowley lurched upright, 'the one where you think humanity just needs a good slap and you'd be happy to administer it.' 

'Mmmm.' Through a drunken haze Aziraphale realised he probably shouldn't admit to that one. 'Not really.' 

'Huh. They'll probably think of a proper name for that one day. Hey, d'you ever get days where you can't be bothered to do anything and it all seems pointless?' 

Aziraphale snapped his fingers: 'Yes! Good point. Forgot all about that one.' 

'Or that feeling where you think you're better than everyone else?' 

That didn't sound so familiar. 'Don't think so. Heard about it though. Something about it coming before a fall.' 

There was a cold silence and Crowley looked away pointedly. 'I should have known you'd bring that up.' 

Oh dear, the poor thing sounded upset. Aziraphale blurrily wondered if he should apologise, until he reminded himself that Crowley's comment was probably a misguided wile. Crowley had been aiming a lot of those at him lately. How silly. Wiles wouldn't work against him, Crowley should know better than that. He was an angel. He tilted the jar of wine to his lips and giggled when it ran down his neck. Drinking lying flat on your back didn't work very well but it was pleasant to lie here under the stars. He was enjoying their 'discussion'. Having someone around to talk to made all the difference somehow. Aziraphale did try quite hard not to indulge in too many of life's pleasures, but he sometimes suspected he was fighting an impossible battle. Crowley seemed to understand that. 

According to Crowley, just because they were an angel and a demon it didn't mean they had to embody good and evil, like the opposite ends of some sort of spectrum. What good would that do them? Anyway, Crowley had continued, getting into the swing of his argument, humanity was bound to rub off on them a bit and that was not necessarily a bad thing. He said it was unrealistic to expect them not to be affected by the whole sweaty, emoting mass of them. Obviously it was going to colour one's outlook, Aziraphale had agreed, turning the matter over in his mind. 

Still, in his sober moments it worried him. Perhaps he should make an effort to control his more obvious indulgences. It would look very bad, very bad indeed, if anyone caught him flat-out drunk in a demon's house. But then, Crowley always said that experiencing the important aspects of human life was good practise for a field agent. Feeling things would stop them getting stale. How were they supposed to know their jobs if they didn't know what they were dealing with? He had a point. Aziraphale eyed the plate of cinnamon cakes and licked his lips. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all, overcoming his angelic scruples now and again. 

Crowley rolled off his cushions with a light thud, weaved over to Aziraphale and collapsed at his side. He was sniggering to himself. He propped himself up on one elbow and beckoned Aziraphale closer. 

'What? Do you want another cake?' He offered one to Crowley who took it and threw it over his shoulder. 'Hey, I would've eaten that.' 

'There's something better than food. It's really funny too.' 

'Better than food? What?' He leant forward. 

Crowley whispered in his ear and then drew back, looking very pleased with himself. 

'Oh, that! Have you tried it?' 

'You mean you haven't?' Crowley was grinning in a very annoying way. 

The inordinate cravings of the human body. It was an awfully complicated area and one that, in all truth, he tended to gloss over somewhat. It was all so messy. There was no telling people when it came to sex; they stopped thinking altogether and let their bodies take over. He often wondered at it, and at why humans were designed that way. He decided after some thought that having overpowering sexual urges must give you even more of a chance at being good, seeing as how those urges apparently made everything so much difficult. Crowley frequently found the whole business of sex hilarious, and had often whiled away his days following particularly messy love affairs, reporting back often on the latest developments, but Aziraphale would never had guessed that he was that interested in it. 

Aziraphale let his head fall back onto the soft cushions. Sex. The word conjured up disturbing images of physical intimacy and strange, faintly unsavoury bodily functions that he wasn't sure he wanted to know about. But he had to admit he didn't have much of a clue. The act itself wasn't in his remit; the love of Heaven was a strictly hands-off affair, or at least, he thought darkly, it was supposed to be. Some angels seemed a bit free and easy with the rules. But then, people had such an annoying way of blurring the boundaries between love and lust that Aziraphale had a hard job telling the two things apart sometimes. He would look at a pair of lovers and wonder if they were truly in love or was it just the lure of a healthy body with a full set of limbs and no leprosy to speak of? Of course, he knew intellectually that sex and love were very different, but thinking only got you so far where humanity was involved; the rest you had to make up for yourself as you went along. 

'So, why don't you try it?' Crowley said quietly in his ear, bringing him hurtling back to the present. 

Aziraphale stared. 'What? Try it?' Suddenly he didn't feel quite so drunk. 

'You know, try the feeling.' 

'No! I can't.' He was sure he shouldn't, but it was rather hard to come up with a good reason why not. 

'There's no shame in it, Aziraphale. It's natural. I'll help.' 

'It's not a question of shame,' he said, blushing deeply. 'I just can't. I'm an angel. We're sexless. And it's not natural for us.' 

'Come off it,' Crowley sighed. 'Only because you choose. And you've got a man's body after all. I assume, anyway. Fully functioning,' he said with a bright smile. 'Like mine.' 

'Yes, but that doesn't mean I have to use it.' 

'But it helps us understand them, you agree with that, don't you? Trust me, this'll make you understand everything. I'm sure. Desire, lust, it's what rules them.' Crowley was staring at him intensely, his voice serious. 

Well,' Aziraphale knew he was wavering. Crowley seemed so very persuasive tonight. 'I suppose it might be useful. In the pursuit of knowledge.' 

Crowley smiled at him encouragingly. Aziraphale couldn't help but notice that he looked subtly different now. He tried to pinpoint the change and when it had happened but it was difficult. There were two spots of colour in his cheeks, his eyes were bright and he was smiling a rather foolish smile. He looked so pleased. Aziraphale took a deep breath. It would be a sort of learning exercise. One had to research these areas, after all. 

Crowley nodded. 'That's right. Knowledge. Go on then, it won't hurt you.' 

'I've heard that somewhere before.' 

Crowley shrugged. 'It's true. Look, I'm feeling it right now.' 

'Oh,' Aziraphale said, rather dazed by the information. 'You are?' He opened and shut his mouth a few times and realised that he had no idea what it was he needed to ask. 'How do I, er ... ' 

A worried expression crept across Crowley's face. 'Oh. I'm not sure. It's not easy to explain, but I've heard it helps if there's someone else with you.' He moved helpfully closer. 

'I thought you said you knew all about this?' 

'I said I'd felt lust, not that I'd had sex.' 

'Oh.' 

They looked at each other for a long moment. 

'Crowley, I don't know-- ' 

Crowley leant over and slid a hand slowly, carefully, up his bare arm to his shoulder, hardly touching, but the sensation made his skin prickle all over. 

'Ohhh,' Aziraphale gasped. 

Crowley's smile took on an extra brilliance. Aziraphale forced himself to lie still when really he had a sudden urge to fling his clothes off and make Crowley touch him all over, just the way he had then. Hundreds of small white jasmine flowers filled the night with their scent. Crowley's breath smelled of cinnamon and was warm on his cheek. Every part of his body, including some he wasn't used to receiving information from, was aware of Crowley's solid weight next to him, causing the cushions to dip slightly when he moved closer. And closer. 

'Is anything happening?' Crowley said, gazing at him curiously, his hand still resting lightly on Aziraphale's shoulder. His eyes were glowing and the light of the oil lamp touched his face at the temples, cheekbones and jaw. He was very beautiful. Aziraphale wasn't used to seeing Crowley like this and couldn't help staring. Something else he'd never noticed was how warm Crowley was. Heat was radiating from him in waves. It was truly startling. He could feel it all the way down his side through the linen of his robe. The flow of warmth and the close proximity of Crowley's eyes and lips made his heart speed up. His blood seemed hotter and was pumping through his veins with more force than was strictly necessary. The flow of it pounded in his ears. His hands felt empty. 

Aziraphale shut his eyes in a hurry. 'I think I did it,' he whispered, on the edge of panic. 'I think I did it right.' 

'Do you like it?' Crowley sounded like he really wanted to know, as if it was important. 

He thought as hard as he could over the tumult of sensation. The way the moonlight played through the vines to pattern Crowley in shadows was entrancing. So too were the hundreds of scents that drifted on the summer night; smells of earth and flowers, and, he realised with a faint shock, their own skin. Crickets chirruped all around them and the sound was hypnotic, as were Crowley's softly hissing breaths. All these sensations seemed mere parts of a much bigger thing and he strained to understand the feeling: it was as though he was drawing a deep sigh that never ended, or he'd been spun round very fast. But it was more than that. He wanted something but he couldn't tell what it was. He felt like he needed to find out, and fast. Ideas of how Crowley could help him popped into his head as if they'd been there all along and his eyes flew open, shocked at his own imagination. 

Crowley was laughing softly at his side, gazing at him steadily. It was a sound that made the hairs rise all over his body. 

'You're feeling it, I can tell,' Crowley breathed. 

His words only made the strange sensations ten times worse. Aziraphale tried to make his racing heart slow down. What if he wouldn't be able to make these terrifying feelings go away? 

There was an awkward pause. 'It feels very nice,' Aziraphale said haltingly, with a dry mouth, 'but strange.' 

'Yeah, I know.' 

They looked at each other. It was exhilarating and scary both at the same time; he was dizzy. His skin itched, there was a tightness in his stomach and then Crowley wasn't laughing anymore, just stroking his arm gently and looking at him with deep, serious eyes. 

'Touch me too,' Crowley said and although it sounded as careless as Crowley could manage, underneath Aziraphale could hear a plea. He found that he couldn't refuse. 

'We could get into so much trouble,' Aziraphale whispered, awed by the way Crowley moved under his hand as he touched his hair and stroked along the smooth lines of his face. 

'Yes, but doesn't that make it better?' Crowley said happily, pushing his head into Aziraphale's touch. 

'Sort of, I think,' he whispered, then didn't get a chance to say anything else because Crowley kissed him and pulled him close so that their bodies touched all the way down. Aziraphale quite forgot about anything being bad or wrong or not allowed and kissed him back, gasping when Crowley let out a little muffled moan. The sound did something strange to his insides, as though it had started something fluttering in there. Crowley wrapped his arms tight around Aziraphale and kissed him even harder. 

'Can't we take these off?' Aziraphale gasped soon after, tugging at Crowley's clothes. He craved the sensation of Crowley's skin against his. Crowley sat up and yanked his robe off, then pulled Aziraphale's up over his head. Aziraphale smiled to see his hair sticking up comically. Crowley laughed and fell back against him and they kissed, long, slow kisses that made Aziraphale's head swim and his whole body heat up. He pulled Crowley closer, as close as he could possibly get. 

Crowley moved his hand over Aziraphale's shoulders and then his chest and his stomach, making him shiver. He'd never felt anything as exciting as this, ever. Crowley trailed his hand across his back and down his side, his long fingers slipping over Aziraphale's ribs one by one as if he were counting them, then spreading out over his stomach until they wrapped delicately round that bit of flesh that Aziraphale usually ignored but that was now demanding attention. Crowley kissed him again, stroking slowly and firmly, and Aziraphale shut his eyes tight, letting the pleasure carry him away. He couldn't tell how long it went on for but at the end Aziraphale reached out blindly and felt himself squeezed in an embrace that was almost suffocating. Crowley wrapped round him like a vine, kissing his face and neck until Aziraphale had to free himself in case he was smothered. The night was still and quiet around them and the lamp in the little garden burned low. He blinked dreamily up at Crowley, who sat back and gazed down at him, his lips parted slightly and his eyes wide. 

It took a while, but when he felt more himself he reached up languidly and touched his fingers to Crowley's lips, marvelling at how silky they were, then he let his fingers slip down, touching his chest. The smooth skin there rose and fell under his fingers. Carefully, Aziraphale craned his neck and planted a lingering kiss in the middle of it, tasting salt on his lips and imagining he could hear the thudding of Crowley's heart. He moved his hand lower and very carefully stroked between Crowley's legs. Crowley laughed, a breathy exhalation, and then let out a soft hiss as Aziraphale curled his hand tight around that strange, hard-yet-soft skin, imitating exactly the way Crowley had touched him. Crowley moved against him and let out a shuddery gasp, then bent low and kissed him fiercely, running his trembling fingers through Aziraphale's hair. It didn't seem very long before Crowley cried out and his whole body stiffened. Aziraphale felt the vibration of the sound all through his own body, then warm wetness on his hand and stomach. 

Dawn was showing itself as a pale blue rim on the horizon and somewhere a cockerel had decided it was time to start shouting at the new day, loud and raucous in the cool early morning. 

Crowley and Aziraphale lay close together under Crowley's expensive fur blanket, snug and warm against the dew, talking drowsily. Aziraphale supposed the whole thing wasn't entirely proper, but he'd decided it was a bit too late to worry about that now. And anyway, he couldn't quite bring himself to care. He stroked Crowley's hair. Crowley was draped over him like another blanket. He was warm and heavy and trying very hard by the looks of things to stay awake. 

Something was nagging at Aziraphale. 

'You said it'd help me understand everything,' he said, 'but I don't think I do. If anything it makes it all even more complicated.' 

'Mmmm.' Crowley lifted his head and his wide-eyed innocent look didn't sit well with his smile. He looked sleepy, pink, and very alive. He laughed. 

'That's exactly my point.' 

'What is?' 

'That's exactly what it's like for people. That's the whole point. It's all so complicated.' 

'Oh. But ... ' 

'Though we could have another go at understanding more, if you want, later.' 

Aziraphale thought they'd done enough understanding for one day and perhaps it was time for Crowley to go to sleep. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He pulled the blanket further over them and lay looking at the sky as gold and pink spread over the horizon, creeping over the blue. 

 


End file.
